


All That You Are

by arthurmorgan-s-heart (Silverblind)



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Female Reader, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Smut, Sub Arthur Morgan, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17790800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverblind/pseuds/arthurmorgan-s-heart
Summary: Sometimes, Arthur just needs to let someone else take the reins.





	All That You Are

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fill from my tumblr blog. Uploaded here for convenience - find me on tumblr - arthurmorgan-s-heart
> 
> Original request text: "Okay Arthur and a fem s/o who is like a power bottom and yeah she is on bottom but you damn well know she is calling the shots and telling him what a good boy he is and how good he feels"
> 
> \------
> 
> Me while writing this: What the fuck am I doing?

Never in your life had you ever seen anything quite as divine as the sight that greets your eyes now.

Arthur is on his knees before you, his chest bare, hands hanging at his sides, knuckles white as bone as his fingers curl into fists. You sit on the edge of the hotel bed, still completely dressed, your finger tracing lazy patterns on top of your clothed thigh as you watch him strain against the front of his trousers. He makes no effort to hide his desperation, the hungry, pleading look in his eyes sending a delicious shiver coursing up your spine.

“Do you want to touch me, Arthur?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He swallows thickly, nodding, his eyes straying down your clothed form before flitting back up to yours.

“Yes,” he answers hoarsely - he knows you want to hear him. “Please.”

You smile sweetly as you push yourself off the bed and to your feet, crossing the short distance between the two of you with light, nonchalant steps. You stand before him, reaching down to cradle his stubbled cheek, and he leans into your touch as if he’d been craving it for years, his hands coming to rest on top of his thighs, gripping tight to prevent himself from touching you. You look at him for a moment - cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with every gasping breath -, admiring the adoring warmth of his gaze before you speak again.

“Alright,” you whisper, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone before letting your hand fall to your side. “Go on, then.”

His hands are on you in half a heartbeat, stroking up your calves, up over the back of your thighs, bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hands until he reaches the buttons holding it closed at the small of your back, his eyes flitting up to yours for a moment to ask for permission - you have but to give a slight nod for him to work the buttons free. He groans when it falls to the floor, leaving you bare - you had judged it pointless to wear underclothes, knowing what you’d come here to do. He looks up at you again, and you smile, combing your fingers through his hair gently as he allows his hands to linger on your hips for a moment before he moves on to unbutton your shirt, starting from the bottom, pressing his lips to every new inch of revealed skin. You hum contentedly in encouragement, sitting yourself back on the bed when he’s unable to reach the last few buttons from his position on the floor, beckoning him forward and welcoming him between your spread thighs for him to finish his work. 

You lean your head back when he presses his lips between your breasts, scratching your nails lightly at the back of his head as he kisses higher, and higher, until your blouse falls open, and he lets his lips linger at the hollow of your throat for a few seconds more than necessary before he sits back on his heels, hands falling away from you to return to his thighs.

“Good work,” you purr as you shrug your shirt off your shoulders, letting it pool on the bed around you as his eyes flit down to your neck, your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, taking in your naked form before coming back up to meet yours again. There’s heat and want and need swirling in his eyes, mirrorring everything that you feel boiling inside you. “Now,” you start, and his back straightens slightly, as if he were standing at attention. You can’t help a gentle smile at the sight. “You wanna do something for me?”

“Anythin’,” he answers eagerly, and you hold out your hand, waiting for him to take it before you let yourself fall flat on your back.

“You feel that?” you whisper as you press his fingers against your core, drawing a low, rumbling growl from him. “That’s for you.”

You let go of his hand, feeling him drag the rough pad of his thumb up toward your center, tracing light circles there for a moment before hooking his free hand under your thigh, bringing it over his shoulder as he presses himself as close to you as he can manage. He meets your eyes again as he leans down toward you, always mindful, always obedient, and you angle your hips toward him encouragingly.

Arthur knows how to please you, just as you know how to please him - he could make you fall apart in mere instants, but he knows that’s not what you want; so the first strokes of his tongue are long, slow, and careful, sparking waves of gentle heat that roll over you with every motion, pushing and pulling like the tide, stoking your pleasure. You reach down to grab at the back of his head as your eyes slip closed, relishing the unrestrained moan you draw from his throat when you pull him closer against you.

You feel a finger press against your core, and you roll your hips in a wordless invitation, letting out a shuddering sigh when he pushes it inside you, closely followed by another. He moves his fingers in time with his tongue, steadily, unhurriedly, licking and stroking in just the right ways to slowly transform the sparks in your stomach into a burning pyre, dragging you closer and closer to your end as you reward him with soft moans and gasps.

He doesn’t complain when your legs clamp around his head as you teeter at the edge of your pleasure, only dutifully swirling his tongue against your center - you feel his eyes on you, but you can’t quite bring yourself to open yours to meet his gaze. Your free hand fists in the sheets beneath you, the other grasping a handful of his hair as you lift your hips to his mouth, arching into the last few motions that you need to come apart, feeling yourself start to shudder and shake as it comes over you, slowly taking hold of you, inch by inch, until you’re shivering against his mouth, and he moans again, reveling in everything that you’re giving him.

He doesn’t pull away until you loosen your hold around his head, his lips trailing against the inside of your thigh soothingly before he leans back, sitting back on his heels once more as he waits patiently for you to catch your breath. You let a few moments crawl by, the silence of the room only broken by your shuddering breaths, before you let your eyes flutter open, and you push yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed again, reaching for him; he’s close enough that you can cradle his cheek to draw him to you, and he plants his hands on either sides of your hips as you meet his lips for a tender kiss.

“You did so well, Arthur,” you whisper against his mouth before kissing him again. He groans deeply when you reach down to press your hand against him, rolling his hips into your touch greedily, and you lean back to look at him.

“Up,” you say simply; he stands immediately, eyes trained on you as you reach out to unbuckle his belt. It clinks free, and you hear his breath hitch in his throat. You sit back, gesturing at his lower half. “Off.”

He’s quick to obey, fumbling with the buttons before pulling his trousers and underwear down until he can step out of them. He watches as you slide back onto the bed, arranging yourself properly and resting your head on the pillows before you look at him again, smiling and motioning him closer. He steps forward and sits on the edge of the bed; you reach for his hand, pulling him to you, spreading your legs as he comes to kneel between them again. You let go of his hand as you prop yourself up on one elbow, placing a hand lightly at the side of his neck so that you can guide his mouth to yours, kissing him gently. You feel him against your thigh, hard and scorching hot, and he whines against your lips as he feels your hand leave his neck to trail down his chest and over his stomach, stopping just shy of his aching length. He draws back to look at you, his skin red and flushed, his eyes clouded and dark.

“Do you want me, Arthur?” you ask softly.

“Yes,” he pants, desperately trying to resist bucking forward to close the last few inches between you. “Ain’t never wanted anything as much as I - “

The words catch in his throat when you finally take him in your hand, stroking lightly. He blinks heavily as he looks down at you beneath him, a strangled, unintelligible plea all he can manage as you guide him forward against your core.

“Come on,” you breathe, and it’s all he needs to push inside you in one stroke, a deep  growl escaping him as he immediately sets a quick, hard rhythm, one hand finding the back of your neck to draw you into another kiss while the other reaches down to push your thighs further apart - he won’t last long. Your own hands find his shoulders before sliding down over his back, feeling the tight muscles working under his skin, learning each scar anew as though you didn’t already know them by heart.

“You always make me feel so good, Arthur,” you whisper in between breathless moans as you part from him, arching your back to bring your chest against his. “Always know just what I need. So good for me…”

He groans loud and low as his thrusts grow frantic, your quiet gasps urging him on; he seems to remember to pull away at the last second, but your hands move to his hips, pressing him tight against you as he comes undone, and he doesn't resist, his teeth grazing the skin of your shoulder as he jolts and bucks against your hips for a few moments more before he finally stills. 

He buries his face in the curve of your shoulder as he catches his breath, kissing and whispering things you can’t quite catch, before he rolls off you, drawing you on top of him and earning himself a surprised laugh. You lay a hand flat against his chest, feeling the fast, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm as his fingers trace the line of your spine lightly.

“Needed that,” he says after a long while, and you look up to find him smiling. “Thanks, darlin’.”

You press your lips to his collarbone, trailing kisses up and up until you reach the underside of his jaw, and he cranes his neck to kiss you properly, long and slow.

“Anytime,” you whisper against his lips as you give him a smile of your own.

 


End file.
